


Jealousy

by PaisleyWraith



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaisleyWraith/pseuds/PaisleyWraith
Summary: This... wasn’t something Kenny was familiar with.It is, however, something familiar to Kyle.





	1. Canon

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by an anon on tumblr.

It started so slowly that Kenny had no idea how deep he was in until he was already fucked over. When he looked back, he realized there were dozens upon dozens of moments where he should have realized what was happening, but he didn’t pick up on it until too late. 

Probably because it wasn’t unusual for him to find friends attractive. Everyone has their little thing, something that makes them interesting. Some had more than others. Kenny had a significant list of Stan, Butters, and finally, Kyle. 

Yeah. He’d been attracted to them all at some point, never intensely to do much, He’d kissed with Butters a couple times as a kid, kinda practice sort of thing without real feelings, he had a long string of girlfriends and later boyfriends, a good amount of bedmates who didn’t want anything to do with Kenny aside from a lay. He’d watched his friends with amused attention when they did something cute or looked cute and it wasn’t weird. Attraction was a thing he was cool with and familiar with. 

That wasn’t what fucked him up. 

What fucked him up was that weird crawling feeling that crept up his heart when he saw Kyle with his first ‘serious’ girlfriend. Someone he dated and seemed to really like. Someone extremely pretty and smart and he felt physically sick. If you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were infatuated, Kenny felt spiders crawling around his. 

Because he was a stupid fucking moron, he misdirected the feeling. Once Kyle and his chick separated, Kenny chatted with the girl only to find he held no interest in her at all. That was the moment he realized where his interest had been directed. He shrugged that off though, that’s as weird but whatever. It was another handful of months before he realized it was more than a simple attraction. 

Because hey, Kyle was hot and it wasn’t unnatural for Kenny to watch him this closely. Come on, Kyle hit puberty before anyone else, standing over a head taller than Kenny at one point. His frizzed hair turned more into mismatching, belligerent curls, which was insanely cute to him no matter how much Kyle hated it. He played basketball, which meant he stayed pretty lean. He was still the smartest kid in school. 

Plus, that ass. Boy had the nicest booty in school, and Kenny definitely noticed. Everyone noticed, be real. If Kyle had lived anywhere but South Park, he’d be the most popular and sexiest kid in town. As it was, Kenny would still argue he was the sexiest, and therein was part of the problem. 

It was his fault, he caught himself staring at Kyle more often, taking in and analyzing every twitch of his brow as he listened to people speak, every half-smirk or smile or rolled eyes. Not too weird. Or the fact could get riled up just from watching Kyle get angry, all lit with fire and passion that burned, physically. And it wasn’t just getting hot over one thing. 

From watching him wipe the sweat off his face in PE, glaring across the room at a classmate who showed him up, Kyle wearing that one glorious pair of close-fitted jeans, being on the receiving end of a smirk or a smile, being close enough to notice his barely-there freckles or the fact his eyelashes were also red... 

Kenny found himself hopelessly distracted hundreds of times, more than anyone else and it was starting to get annoying. You couldn’t pop a boner every time your classmate slammed his hands on the desk and told another why they were wrong. That was weird and typically unappreciated. 

Kenny honestly tried to stop himself from noticing him every two seconds, seriously he did. 

But there was this sense, this sense of _mine_ that burned into his throat like bile. Kenny would find himself watching if someone got too close to Kyle, and feel that spidery feeling crawl again. Twitchiness, irritability, to the point of actually angrily snapping at Butters once, out of sheer irritability. 

He’d been taken aback, pale blue eyes widening as Kenny realized he just bit his head off for no reason. 

“I...” the guilt must have been written all over his face, because Butters’ expression eased slightly. 

“Don’t yell at me,” The boy mumbled, juggling his books to shove in his backpack. Anyone else he probably would’ve told them it was okay. But Kenny also shrugged things off he shouldn’t. They understood each other. 

“...I’m sorry,” Kenny said, slumping against the lockers. He tried very hard not to look over where Kyle was talking animatedly with Davìd, so agitated he was talking with his hands and almost in the other kid’s space. 

Clearly that didn’t work, because Butters immediately looked over his shoulder. He chewed on his lips as he processed the scene, looking back over to Kenny who was now looking anywhere else but the two. 

He didn’t like the look of understanding on his friend’s face. As if he read through whatever expression he was making and saw his innermost thoughts. It made him feel weird. 

“Well, Kenny,” Butters took a gentle tone, so sympathetic it made his stomach churn. “I get it.” 

No, no you didn’t. Neither did Kenny. 

It was endlessly frustrating. Because now he felt weirder hanging out with the guys, felt a little self conscious, like someone was about to point out that his gaze strayed to Kyle a little more, he stood or sat by Kyle more often, he listened to whatever complaint or observation came out of his mouth. 

The thought made his stomach turn, and he wasn’t normally one to give a shit about what people thought. He didn’t want anyone to know. No one could know. 

But he still couldn’t stop himself from paying that close attention. Like everything in him was focused, centered around Kyle. 

He’d sit at lunch, silent, just watching. Kyle and Stan would be talking, Kyle trying to offer life advice Stan clearly didn’t want, regardless of what a mess he was feeling. 

Kyle was obnoxious, but he meant well. Kenny listened, was hearing both sides of the conversation when one of Kyle’s Smart Kid classmates stopped by to ask a question about an assignment a little too sweetly to be causal. 

Like a flipped switch, Kenny went from involved and kind of content to angry. Not just crawly, actually angry. Bitch, he was talking to Stan. His parents are divorcing and he broke up with his girlfriend rather than the other way around and Kenny suspected he started drinking again rather than reaching out to anyone so let Kyle fucking talk, god fucking dammit, “Why don’t you fuck off!” 

Everyone at the table turned to stare, making Kenny regret the words the moment they burst from his lips. Kyle and Stan both exchanged a bewildered look. Cartman was laughing himself to tears. The good news was the sullen, dead look was out of Stan’s eyes. Bad news was Kyle looked like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. 

“Fuck you, McCormick,” the girl said disgustedly, looking hurt in a way that ought to have made Kenny feel bad. 

He started to panic a little when he didn’t, and shoveled food into his mouth to avoid talking to the rest of the boys. 

This was jealousy. Jealousy was not something he really ever encountered. Not with anyone, not a single person he ever dated in his life. Kenny was laid back in relationships, glad with anything, never one to be possessive or angry. Not like this. 

This burned. Lit from within, something painful and angry but powerfully dark...something better suited for his old childhood Mysterion persona than lighthearted, outgoing Kenny. He could set the world ablaze like this. All due to a single person, one far more fiery than him. 

Kyle was fire itself. Emotion and passion, always feeling everything to extremes. If Kenny was death, Kyle was life. In a way he almost liked this feeling. Something lively, giving him a glimpse of that fire even from afar. 

He watched Kyle run down the court, ultra-focused and working with his team. Tall and handsome, lean and pretty, curls plastered to his face and skin red from exertion. 

Kenny smiled at him from the audience, letting himself daydream as he kept his gaze on the boy. The boy was sweet, smart, and sexy. If Kyle has any idea how much he could use all of that to his advantage, the world would be over. 

He’d caught a glimpse of Cartman, then, out of the corner of his eye. The boy was smirking, head tilted just slightly, eyes on Kyle and the look in them made Kenny grit his teeth. 

No. 

You do not get to spend a lifetime tormenting your cake and then eat it, too. If he’d lose Kyle to Stan, that’d be one thing. But him?! After everything said and done to the kid, it’d be over Kenny’s dead body that he let Cartman get anywhere near him romantically or physically. 

And then he’d come back from the dead and kick him in the teeth. 

Cartman seemed to notice he was being watched and glanced over, actually starting at the look on Kenny’s face. 

He actually looked startled, staring at the boy like he’d grown an extra six arms. Whatever expression Kenny had been making, it must have been promising death to the receiver. 

Kenny looked away, quickly. 

Let him. If he’d let Cartman near him. 

He was thinking in possessives now, as if Kyle in any way belonged to him. And, Kenny watched the boy slap Token on the back for something and grin like a maniac, as if Kyle couldn’t take care of himself. 

Kyle wasn’t his. 

It was something he kept quiet, kept to himself. Thought to himself, told himself every time. It didn’t matter. 

He was Kyle’s. 

He realized that when someone asked him out and he declined, kindly and with a happy, flattered heart. He watched them go, eyes widening when he realized what he’d just said. 

_“I’m already seeing someone.”_

He wasn’t, and he knew he wasn’t, but at this point it would feel so much like cheating that he’d feel like an asshole. He was turning people away because he kinda liked someone who’d never love him back! What was wrong with him?!

At some point he had to ask himself, why Kyle? If he liked all his friends, had been close to them all at one point, had been attracted to each, why did his soul suddenly latch onto this boy and refuse to let go? 

He spent months trying frantically to understand. Find an answer. He finally maybe found it on one of those rare days in which he had Kyle all to himself, Stan off touring universities and Cartman having fucked off somewhere, he laid on Kyle’s floor and watched him play something on his console Kenny hadn’t seen before. 

Kyle was laid back at the moment, still focused but on something with no real consequence. It was a smoother look to his brows, the more calm and almost tired kinda look. Reddish lashes and a soft smile whenever Kenny would point something out, a snort when he made a stupid comment. 

It was familiarity, similarity, and the beautiful difference between them. Kyle was life, Kenny was death, but driving forces in their own areas. It was a love for family, the ever-present drive to care for people they loved above anything else. It was a lifetime of knowing each other’s faults, strengths, dreams. It was a hundred million little things that could have belonged to anyone else, but was theirs. 

It was the slope of a jaw, curve of a smile, shift of weight on a foot, a sneer when speaking down to people. It was ferocity and passion and empathy, it was ardent fire in green eyes. 

It was that love for others in Kenny that sparked his possession. A confused and mixed bunch of feelings trying to protect Kyle from something he had no right to protect him from. A want and desire that burned him alive from the inside out, the charred remains of flames, the fire, the force that was Kyle Broflovski. 

He could turn him into a poet, though the moment Kenny opened his mouth he knew he’d never be able to say a single thing. 

He was helpless. Jealous and angry and burning inside, warring with himself on whether to speak or remain silent forever. He’d never be able to get Kyle to understand, though. Kenny wasn’t good with words. Not like him. He’d be able to say all of this and more, make someone understand and fall at his feet under the honesty and love that would shine through whatever ridiculously long-winded words he chose. 

Kenny kept his mouth shut, but let himself think the words. 

I love you. 

It sounded sweet to his own ears, soft and honest in his own light voice. 

I want you to be mine. 

He exhaled, slowly. It would never work. 

Kyle continued playing, not looking away. Kenny buried his face in his arms and sighed, heavily. Weightily, like he was tired. He was tired. He was burning up inside and it hurt. 

A hand carded through his hair, stirring sleepy memories of growing up time and time again in his mother’s arms. After a startled moment, the smells told him yes, he was so not home, honeysuckle and sandalwood were definitely a different scent than beer and cigarettes, and he lifted his chin off his arms. 

Kyle froze, looking awkward, before lifting his chin a little in defiance. 

“What?” He asked irritably, coloring. Again pushing, a force, a fire.

Kenny said nothing. He kept eye contact. He never was good with words. Gently, he leaned into the hand, leaned into the fire. 

He didn’t seem to know what to do. Kenny closed his eyes. 

Slowly, Kyle’s fingers carded through his hair again. Kenny rested his head against his arms once more, relaxing. 

Yes, yes, this was nice. Kyle had paused the game just to touch him, his heart was pounding in his ears. Was smoothing back his hair almost tenderly, hands on him a little too much to just be casual. 

Kenny looked up at Kyle, who had his pretty eyes on him with affection. Yes. Please. And thanks. 

Wow, he was going to fall asleep. This was really nice. He sighed, closing his eyes again and heard Kyle snort. The redhead still said nothing, though. Not a word. Kenny was okay with that, for now. Okay with just feeling, soaking it in. Appreciating it. 

He was in love. It started so slowly, he had no idea this would end up here. With him burning for Kyle with intensity, a fire cooled only by the soft attention and affection of someone he had yet to earn them from. 

Yet? 

Kenny’s heart jumped. Yet. Meaning one day, maybe? That would be ridiculous. 

But. 

The definitely wasn’t going away. Not anytime soon. This was new and weird and was sticking around a good while. Burning him up inside, killing him slowly from within. 

But, Kenny reasoned as Kyle kept his hand in his hair, he did defy death on a regular basis. He could deal with this a while longer before making a decision. Could deal with the pain and the frustration. Kyle was worth it. This was worth it. 

“What?” 

Kenny jumped. “What?” 

“What’s worth it?” Kyle questioned quizzically, looking confused. 

Oh shit. He just couldn’t keep a filter on himself lately. Too much going on inside, it was eating him up. 

“Uh...” You are. Worth every bit of anger and confusion and heartbreak he’d ever feel. Just keep petting his hair like that. Keep looking at him like that. 

“Your pretty hands in my hair is so worth a lack of entertainment,” Kenny drawled. “I say you change your career to a masseuse. Or whatever else could get your hands all over-” 

Kyle yanked a pillow off the bed to smack Kenny with, making the boy laugh. Kyle was trying not to smile and failing. He removed his hand but didn’t move away, or do anything when Kenny snuggled the pillow and scooted close enough he was touching Kyle just barely. 

He just clammed up whenever he had a chance to say something. Say half of what he thought. He was damning himself to another curse, to hate and to be angry every time Kyle was showing this soft affection elsewhere. 

Kenny would let it eat him. At least until he decided what to do, or else finally stopped caring at all. 

And while they were at it, maybe he’d finally die for real, too.


	2. The Optional Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have something that can be considered a continuation, or not. It's up to you.

Kyle knew for a long time, he simply refused to acknowledge what was happening until he was in far too deep. He was stubborn, but in the end he was forced to admit what he’d tried for literal years to push down. 

He assumed everyone had thoughts like that, he thought everyone once in a while looked at a friend and considered the fact they were attractive and that they’d fit together romantically. He’d mostly just been surprised it had been directed towards a close friend. And he’d pushed it away. It wasn’t important. It was merely a thought. 

He had a few girlfriends. Kyle crushed easily but fell in love slowly, hesitant to begin a romance unless pushed or until he became certain on his own. He didn’t have a lot to choose from, after all, and was fairly certain years later that a few of them he hadn’t actually cared for the way that he thought. 

It was hard to date in a place where you knew everyone so well, after all. He had a bad breakup with a girl he really liked in high school, one that ended with a lot of hate and bitterness on both sides. 

He had a quick fling with a Ivy-bound boy from another school’s basketball team a few months after, hoping to find love in someone more like him. He quickly grew annoyed and dumped the kid, swearing off dating forever when he told his friends about it afterwards. 

It was then that his gaze settled once again on Kenny, the blond listening to Kyle and Stan smacktalk his exes as Kyle laid on the floor, Kenny watching from the bed. 

His stomach flipped. 

It was something he tried to push back again, ignore, because people didn’t grow up crushing on friends. It was- people grew up with other people that close, they had to like- like have an anti-incest button in their brain, or something, because yes Kyle did occasionally look at guys and find something attractive but this was _Kenny_ , he knew the kid like he was his own brother and he should not- shouldn’t be-

He watched Kenny too closely and had for years. 

It was mostly effortless to pass it off as normal. He laughed at Kenny’s idiotic humor, used him as a mouthpiece to tell dickheads to piss off, leaned against his tiny frame in middle school like a crutch, traded off with Stan to make sure that Kenny was looking after himself, too, not just his baby sister, sitting next to him more often during school or jumping to his defense with vitriol that surprised even himself. 

What was harder? Explaining why he began watching him physically. 

It was taking longer looks in PE, silent as Kenny was forced to take off his coat that he threw on over his gym clothes, eyes taking in a small frame and golden-brown hair. Having to brush away the urge to grab him and hold him close as mere protectiveness, ignore the fury at insults and filthy names as loyal friendship. 

He had lean legs, clear eyes, and when they weren’t obscured by a hood it was so, so easy to pick up on his natural little expressions. The small furrow of his brows in distaste, smirks when he was happy, and that urge to grab and hold and _touch_ burned in him so furiously that he roughhoused with the boy during the PE game despite it being no-contact. Like a fucking creep. 

Stan’s weird look made a little more sense now. 

Oh god, how long had Stan known? When Kyle expressed distaste for Kenny’s partners had he known it wasn’t just because ‘he/she was an asshole to me once’? Did he realize before Kyle did that his dislike of Kenny’s… ‘lifestyle’ choices wasn’t just because ‘he’s looking for something they aren’t going to give him’?

He disliked all of Kenny’s dates and hated any of his non-romantic partners, to the point where he told Kenny to shut the fuck up about sexing with some bitch in high school, because it made him physically sick. 

After the initial surprise, (and what he later suspected was hurt,) Kenny had laughed him off, but Kyle had genuinely felt ill. 

He hadn’t admitted it to himself. He was jealous. 

Jealousy towards Kenny became so embedded in his life that he normalized it. They almost stopped being friends over it, because Kyle had no chill and Kenny was growing tired of his shit.

He finally had to admit it to himself when he couldn’t date anymore. When he was so over-the-top infatuated that he was fucking up his own ability to function he finally had to take a step back and realize what was happening. 

He was completely in love with one of his best friends, and honestly? It wasn’t that surprising. 

Kenny was vibrant. The boy radiated strength, a quiet sort of power, always in the scene somewhere silent and cheery as they fucked shit up together. Out of them all, he was the one who stood out, the one Kyle could pick out of a crowd of thousands, the brave, selfless, sweet boy from the other side of the train tracks. 

The word ‘brave’ came to mind subconsciously, when Kyle investigated his own heart he wasn’t sure _why,_ only that it was the first word to come to mind and it felt odd. Warm, almost proud, but also longing, something akin to grief. 

Selfless, because Kenny had a small handful of people he loved and if he hurt them, it was mostly ignorance, not malice. He’d die for his siblings, his friends, gladly. 

_Why did he feel that rush of grief again?_

Kenny was sweet. His affection was far less obvious than Kyle, for example, or Stan, both of which would speak openly about both love and hate. Kenny was soft touches when you were talking, or leaning on you when you were upset, patting Kyle’s shoulder when he was distraught. 

He was beautiful. He was always pretty, bordering on ethereal, an otherworldly look to mosaic blue eyes and a thin, symmetrical face. 

Then he grew in junior year and outgrew Kyle by about two inches, beginning to fill out and become lean rather than just thin, catching Kyle’s attention as he towered over probably 85% of the school. 

He stopped wearing hoods in senior year, exposing golden-brown hair and a far better haircut to the light gladly, flaunting smirks and smiles until Kyle had no choice but to look. 

Their shared history began to draw Kyle closer, rather than scare him away. He knew who Kenny was. He knew he got angry, felt frustrated, even hated people sometimes. Knew he felt isolated, lonely. Knew he hid insecurity and a need for affection behind bad jokes and self-deprecating humor. 

And Kenny knew Kyle. Knew he was a total asshole with little regard for anything outside his own interests. Knew he was proud, sometimes condescending and uppity, also hiding some major insecurity. Fear. It took admitting to him one night, sitting on the hood of a broken-down vehicle in the McCormick’s front yard, to realize that Kenny knew that all along. 

“You’re too smart to give up now,” The kid had snorted, lying on the cool metal, arms above his head and making his shirt ride up. Exposing his hips and part of his waistline to Kyle’s gaze. “At least fail before you get discouraged, dude, Jesus.” 

“I’m not that fucking smart,” He’d admitted, tearing his gaze away to look out over the yard, following the line of the train tracks. His teeth were grit to avoid making any expressions Kenny could read. “For here, sure. I’m a fucking genius.”

“Already you’re looking down on us,” Kenny scoffed, halfheartedly smacking his shoulder. “Whatcha gonna do when you become a doctor, or a lawyer, marry some rich babe, live in some swanky-ass house in a city. You gonna come back at all, at that point?” 

Kyle licked his lips, leaning back with him on the car. “I don’t want a rich babe.” 

“Nothing wrong with that,” Kenny said easily. “Ride life solo, my dude. Whatever makes you happy.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” Kyle picked at the sleeve of his own sweater, feeling a stab of annoyance. “I don’t want to be a doctor, or a lawyer, and I don’t want a fancy house or a rich babe. I’m not some genius out to change the world, I’m tired of people telling me what I want to do when I don’t even fucking want it!” 

Kenny’s hand came down over his own, firmly, stopping Kyle from tearing up his sleeves. He wasn’t saying anything, he didn’t even look at him. Just clasped his wrist at first, warm fingers pressed against his pulse. 

“That shit comes up a lot with you, bro,” Kenny’s thumb rubbed against the underside of his wrist. “Just fuckin’ don’t do it. Stop panicking over it.” 

“I’m not panicking,” Kyle defended automatically, not bothering to tell himself the chills were due to the Colorado fall. 

“Shut up, Kyle.” Kenny dragged his hand onto his stomach, the worn sweatshirt soft against Kyle’s fingers. “It’s just me, dude.” 

It’s just him. 

Just smirks and smiles in sunlight and the clear blue sky, a steadfast personality overlooked for louder voices. The responsible, level-headed young adult no one seemed to notice. 

Kyle hadn’t noticed. 

And then he noticed too much.

Kyle shifted, resting his head with a soft thunk against Kenny’s shoulder. The blond resumed stroking his wrist, warmth soaking into Kyle’s skin. 

He’d watched, and he’d been jealous, and he hadn’t let himself realize that for so long he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it all began. He had no idea where he wanted it to end. 

Kyle swallowed. 

“Where would you want to go?” Kyle asked, staring up at the sky. “If you could go anywhere.” 

Kenny said nothing, humming slightly as he seemed to think it over. 

He was in love with Kenny. Was proud of him, proud to know him, cared fiercely to the point where it became detrimental to their continued friendship and yet he couldn’t yank himself away. He didn’t know where to begin, how to begin, when all of this was so familiar that it was normalized in his life. 

“Where you going?” Kenny suddenly said easily, nonchalantly. “I might tag along if you ever want a buddy.” 

Kyle inhaled. Slowly, body freezing. 

He admitted it to himself, accepted it. His jealousy and his affection. He could move on with it now. Make peace. 

But he always was a stubborn bastard. 

“What if I don’t want a buddy?” He asked, setting his jaw. “But I still want you around?” 

Kenny wasn’t stupid. Kyle gave him a moment to decipher that, decide what he wanted to say. He felt Kenny tap on his wrist with the tempo of someone deep in thought. 

“Anyone else in this picture?” Kenny’s tone nearly matched Kyle’s in it’s determination. Just as firm. 

“ _No._ ” Not a fucking chance. Kyle’s fingers twisted into his sweatshirt, still keeping his eyes on the stars. “Just us.”

Kenny said nothing, breathing, still thinking. 

Possessiveness and jealousy weren’t exactly positive emotions, Kyle knew. But in the end he was Kenny’s, even if Kenny wasn’t interested. Surely there was something good in that? Love wasn’t meant to destroy this ferociously, right?

His thoughts were interrupted. Kyle stared unseeingly at the sky. 

“Oh, then hell yeah, baby.” Kenny’s joking words were undermined by the breathy laugh. A sound that jolted Kyle into action, at last. 

The sound of someone just as terrified of this new development, and just as hopeful. 

Kyle sat up with ferocity, whirling and finding Kenny grabbing at his sweater. The boy kissed him, meeting Kyle for a very awkward and painful bump of mouths before laughing and kissing him properly. 

Kenny was very talkative physically. Touch that boy and you get all his secrets. Years of mutual jealousy and pining exposed, yearning making them unable to keep their hands off each other. Kenny was passive while Kyle was ferocious, a dimmer fire and less outward anger, but met him emotion for emotion. 

Kenny could coax secrets from Kyle with words. Kyle could coax secrets from him with affection. 

He didn’t even know Kenny could _be_ jealous, which he’d said stupidly in utter shock, and got a swat on the ass for. 

Kenny was laid back in relationships. Didn’t meant he couldn’t be jealous or feel possessive. He just wasn’t such a dick about it. 

Not like Kyle. 

But he’d gotten him. 

He’d gotten the boy. 

(Had he gotten Kenny or had Kenny gotten him?)

Kyle knew what this had been for the longest time, he simply refused to acknowledge what was happening until there was no point of return. He was stubborn, but in the end that worked in his favor. In the end, what had been eating at Kenny was finally given some reprieve. 

In the end, whatever tumultuous past they had might finally be put to rest, and negative feelings replaced by something better. Productive. 

Something better for the future.


End file.
